


Follow Me Down

by lovelivesinthedream



Category: Dominion (TV), Legion (2010)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelivesinthedream/pseuds/lovelivesinthedream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael hasn’t been seen in almost three weeks. </p><p>Alex would say he doesn’t give a shit because, honestly, his life is a lot easier without a severe angel manhandling him and stalking him around every corner. And it’s definitely not like he cares about what’s going on in lofty ‘Mightier-Than-Thou’ land, but three weeks is kind of a long time.</p><p>Alright, maybe he’s a tiny bit worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to warn everyone that there is blood, violence, and some swearing, but it's nothing more than what's been on the show. Also, there are spoilers for Legion.

Michael hasn’t been seen in almost three weeks. 

Alex would say he doesn’t give a shit because, honestly, his life is a lot easier without a severe angel manhandling him and stalking him around every corner. And it’s definitely not like he cares about what’s going on in lofty ‘Mightier-Than-Thou’ land, but three weeks is kind of a long time.

Alright, maybe he’s a tiny bit worried. 

The only reason he actually goes to the angel’s home is because General Riesen orders it, though. If it was up to Alex, he would have been content to let the mystery remain. Either Michael showed up one day or he didn’t. Alex could have lived with that even if he was a little curious. 

Unfortunately, General Riesen and the other city leaders don’t feel the same way about the situation. They vote and decide that someone has to go check on the angel. And Alex, being the supremely unlucky person that he is, is the one that gets the honor of climbing the million and a half steps up to the stupid nest that Michael calls home. 

At the top of the stairs there is only one door, and as fate would have it, the door is unlocked. Alex curses his bad fortune. If it had been locked he would have had a decent excuse to turn back. _I tried, but I couldn’t get in, and I wasn’t about to break into Michael’s house_. Nobody could have blamed him. 

He sighs and pushes the door open far enough to step quietly through. He’s been in Michael’s room before--a few times more than he’s ever wanted, to be honest. He briefly wonders if he’s the only human to ever enter this place. With the ornate paintings on the ceiling and beautifully decorated walls, the room seems almost like sacred ground. He can’t imagine that Michael lets guests drop by out of the blue. 

Alex does his best to ignore the flicker of warmth that flares in his chest. He’s resolutely not flattered by the thought that he’s been in Michael’s personal haven more than anyone else. 

“Michael? Are you here?” he calls out as he walks around. The bed is unmade, and it almost makes him laugh. For some reason he’s never imagined that Michael is the messy type—probably because he hasn’t taken the time to think about Michael very often. That road only leads to questions he is unwilling to ask himself because he’s pretty sure he already knows the answers.

He shifts aside a pillow on the floor with his foot and a smirk on his face. White downy feathers flutter out when he moves it, and the smile instantly falls off Alex’s lips. The pillow is ripped, ragged open holes spilling small feathers out everywhere. Heart thudding painfully, Alex draws in a quick breath and tries to stay calm. Panicking won’t help anyone, and besides, he doesn’t know for sure that there was any foul play. Maybe Michael just likes it a little rough sometimes.

And that is also something he is never going to think about again because the heat that rises to his cheeks at the mere suggestion is revealing a lot about himself that he’s never quite been sure of. 

Okay, so maybe he won’t let himself think about Michael because he knows once he starts he’ll never be able to stop.

The gun on his belt would be fast, but in the small room there’s no need for it. Guns are more trouble than they’re worth in close range combat. The dagger works just as well and fits more comfortably in his hand. He listens intently, searching for any sound to give something away, and he’s rewarded by a faint thud from the direction of the bathroom. It’s almost impossible to hear, but he holds his breath and after only a few seconds he is able to hear the noise again. Standing on sturdy legs and with a battle ready stance, Alex grips his weapon in his hand loosely, prepared to fight if the need arises. 

He’s largely unprepared for the sight that greets him when he kicks the bathroom door open. He’d been expecting to see Michael preening his feathers in the mirror or shaving, maybe. He’d thought the angel would look down at him, annoyed at being bothered when he wanted to be left alone, and then Alex could get mad right back and complain that he wouldn’t willingly check up on Michael, ever, if he had the choice because he doesn’t give a fuck. 

Alex is the only one that needs to know that’s not true.

Instead of all of that, Alex drops the blade from his hand, racing toward the large white porcelain tub with his heart thudding painfully in his throat. Michael is pale, sickly white as he leans into his knees in the tub. The contrast makes his wings a darker black where they curl around him like a shield, his blood blindingly red as it stains everything. There are obsidian feathers, broken and bent, floating where the crimson is beginning to pool.

“Shit,” Alex hisses, holding back the horrified pit growing in his stomach. “Shit. Okay, it’s okay. Michael, tell me what to do. Tell me where you’re hurt so I can help you.” His hands are shaking terribly as he reaches out to touch the angel’s shoulder. Michael doesn’t move an inch from where his head is bent forward over his drawn up knees. 

Closer now, Alex doesn’t need Michael to tell him what’s wrong because it’s obvious. His heart plummets, panic beginning to cloud his thoughts. 

A large, jagged tear splits Michael’s left wing nearly in half. The end dangles uselessly, barely attached. 

Alex is going to be sick. He falls back, landing on his ass but unable to feel the sting from the hard tiles because he’s being overwhelmed with nausea and worry. He’s not paying attention at all, which is so fucking stupid considering all the training he’s ever had, and so he’s easily captured when impossibly strong arms bind around his chest like iron chains and haul him to his feet. 

“Do you see now, brother? Do you understand the depths of their selfishness?” The angel restraining him is wearing heavy armor that has buckles that Alex can feel digging in his spine. Alex fights the hold, struggling and kicking, but the angel stands firm. He’s about the same height as Alex, and from a fleeting glance in the mirror he’s able to make out slicked back hair and dark, calculating eyes. The angel continues speaking to Michael as if Alex is not even there. “After all you’ve done, all you’ve sacrificed for them, and your precious humans still treat you as if you are beneath them. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Alex yells, anger and guilt raging within him. He’s hates that what this monster has said is true. “Michael! Michael, wake up!” He rams his elbows back and is lucky enough to pull his arm free. He swings wildly with all his might, hoping to break the bastard’s nose. A calloused palm catches his fist easily, and sharp eyes zero in on the tattoos peeking out from where his sleeve has ridden up. 

“Ah, you are a pretty one, aren’t you?” the angel asks with a shark-like smile as he drags a dirty finger down the side of Alex’s face. “Tell me, Chosen One,” he sneers, “do you enjoy the way you’ve torn my family apart? Do you laugh over the way you’ve broken my brother time and time again?” His throat is crushed under the angel’s large hand, the heavy weight choking off Alex’s air supply. 

“I didn’t ask him to choose me,” Alex forces out. That is really what has made him resent Michael since he found out. He hates that Michael picked him, forced the fate of humanity upon him when he was just a defenseless baby without a choice in the matter--Michael condemned him to this life.

Gabriel laughs loudly; his amusement is something dark and ugly. “Michael didn’t choose you! Father was the one that foresaw what you would someday do. He knew that you would ruin the extermination, and ordered your death, but Michael couldn’t do it. He refused.”

That doesn’t make sense. Alex feels like the world has disappeared from under his feet. Everything he thought he knew is turning and twisting inside out. His blame for Michael has been one of the only things he can count on in his life. This mess being Michael’s fault was a fact that he could find solace in. It was so easy to gather up all his anger, hurt and confusion and take it out on Michael. And Michael has let him. Michael has never corrected Alex to clear his own name. He’s always accepted all of Alex’s antagonism.

“He gave up everything for you. Defied Father’s orders and cut off his own wings, the single most excruciating thing that can happen to one of our kind. Hell,” the angel laughs viciously, humorlessly, sending a cold chill down Alex’s spine, “he’s already died for you once. All that Michael has done, and it takes three weeks before anyone even bothers to look for him--”

“Let him go, Gabriel,” Michael cuts in, his voice quiet and commanding in a way that Alex has never heard. The edge of his blade presses into Gabriel’s throat just enough to draw blood. The angel relaxes his grip so that Alex is able to wretch himself away. Gasping to catch his breath, Alex can only stare at the terrifying scene unfolding before him. 

Michael is standing tall and proud, but deathly pale. His right wing is spread wide, and his left wing is dangling precariously as feathers and blood fall. His face is grim, determined, and Alex doesn’t understand anything anymore except that seeing Michael look so vicious makes relief wash over him. 

“In time, I would have forgiven your crimes against myself, brother,” Michael says with a stare so cold that Alex wonders how Gabriel hasn’t turned to ice under it. “My wing can be mended.” 

Gabriel jerks to the side and brandishes his own sharply edged weapon. The silver gleams in the light. Michael kicks out the back of Gabriel’s knee and pushes him to the floor. The sound of breaking bones echoes in the small room as Michael stomps on Gabriel’s wrist. He makes it look remarkably easy, like a game instead of a fight with one of the strongest beings on the planet.

Alex has always known Michael is an excellent fighter, but this is more than he ever could have imagined. Michael is mesmerizing in his ferocity. 

“However, I cannot tolerate any harm coming to the boy. He means more to me than anything else here or in Heaven.” There’s such conviction in his words that Alex feels light headed.

He holds the blade to Gabriel’s neck again, this time pushing a little harder. Gabriel loses the arrogant smirk, and his eyes cloud with something like genuine fear. 

Michael’s coldness falters, but he doesn’t let up on the blade. Alex is shocked to see tears gathering in Michael’s eyes and threatening to fall. He feels uneasy as he watches—this isn’t right. Gabriel’s death shouldn’t even be a question. He is a terrible monster that has waged a war on all of humanity. He’s caused the destruction of most of the planet. Gabriel is bad and deserves to die.

But Alex can’t help but to feel like it’s really not that simple. Whatever Gabriel has done, he is still Michael’s brother. The angel had said that Michael had been ordered to kill him twenty-five years ago--that God hadn’t wanted the humans to have the hope of survival. Didn’t that mean that Gabriel had only been doing as he was told? Should he really die for that?

“I am sorry it has come to this, brother.” 

“Wait!” Alex shouts before Michael can press any harder. Both angels look at him warily. Michael won’t meet his eyes, and Gabriel’s face keeps shifting from fearful to disdainful as Alex steps closer. 

He does his best to pretend Gabriel isn’t there, focusing only on Michael and the pain etched on his handsome face. Alex has allowed him to be hurt enough--both inadvertently with what Gabriel’s done to his wing, and purposely with his distrust and harsh words--but he knows the truth of Michael now, and he won’t allow the angel to do this. Michael has given up too much for Alex already.

His hand isn’t shaking as he lays his palm over Michael’s forearm and squeezes gently. Michael still won’t meet his eyes, so he uses his other hand to tilt Michael’s face until he does. He speaks quietly, sincerely, “You don’t have to do this, Michael. It’s okay. I’m not hurt.”

He knows there’s a hand shaped bruise on his throat and his ribs are tender, but he’s fine, overall, because Michael was there to save him once again. It’s always Michael.

“If I let him go, he’ll just come back again. You will always be in danger,” the angel says with a broken sob. He looks so sad and resigned to what he thinks he has to do. Alex pulls the hand with the blade away carefully, holding Michael’s gaze the entire time. 

“Not with you by my side.”

Hope dawns in Michael’s blue eyes slowly as the words sink in. Alex sees the exact moment that the angel understands that Alex’s feelings have changed. 

Fake retching noises break the moment. “Death would have been preferable to this sickening display of emotion.” Gabriel is now standing near the window, holding a hand to his bleeding neck.

Michael moves so quickly that Alex can hardly see it, but when he blinks, Michael has Gabriel pinned to the glass with the blade at his chin. “Would you like to test that theory?”

Gabriel shakes his head vehemently and Michael steps back only far enough to unlatch the window. It doesn’t escape Alex’s notice that the angel is standing in a way so that Alex is shielded from Gabriel’s sight. 

“Leave now, and do not forget the mercy the boy has shown you. You will not be so lucky a second time.”

Gabriel dives out the window without further ado, and as soon as he’s nothing more than a pinprick on the horizon, Michael slumps over the edge of the tub. Alex hurries over to him, trying to catch him and ease his body to the floor. Blood makes everything slippery and wet.

“What do I need to do?” he asks quickly. Michael pants like breathing is a difficult task for him now. He vaguely gestures to the mirror, and Alex is quick to retrieve the necessary supplies he sees on the shelf behind it. 

He tries not to think about why the thread and needle look like they’ve been used before, maybe many times. It causes an ache in his chest to think of Michael repairing his wounds all by himself up here after he fights to protect them.

Stitching together a broken wing is not easy. Despite all the feathers that have fallen away near the cut, there is still a lot of velvety black down blocking his view of the skin. He tries to be gentle as he works; Michael’s clenched fists and grimace make him want to work faster to get it over with. 

His mind buzzes with questions as he weaves in and out. Alex doesn’t want to bother Michael while he’s so injured, but maybe talking will distract the angel from the pain.

“Is it okay if I ask you about some of the things Gabriel said?” he begins hesitantly.

Michael sighs, head hanging forward. “I was hoping you hadn’t been listening to him… But I will answer what I can. You deserve to know.”

He’s pleasantly surprised by the angel’s easy acceptance. The next hour passes with Alex listening to Michael explain the events surrounding his birth as he does his best to fix the fragile wing in his hands. 

Alex learns that God grew tired of humans endlessly hurting each other and themselves, and exhausted with caring about such self-destructive creatures, He ordered the angels to wipe them out. The only problem was a vision of a child that would grow to bring all of humanity together. God didn’t want to put hope into a baby that would end up breaking His heart like all the others, so He commanded Michael to kill the child. Michael hadn’t lost his faith, though. He believed in the goodness of man, and he vowed to protect the baby no matter what. In doing so, he had to leave behind his home and his family, had to tear his wings from his back to sever his ties with Heaven. Gabriel was ordered to kill him for his betrayal.

By the time Gabriel found him, the baby had already been born. Michael had pushed the others out the door with the child while he fought Gabriel. Without his wings and his weapons, Michael couldn’t win. Gabriel stabbed a blade through his heart and Michael died thinking it was the end, but knowing it was worth it since the baby lived. 

But when he died, he was brought before God. He’d expected wrath and punishment for what he’d done even if he knew deep down that the choices he’d made were right. Instead, God granted him life again, and sent him back whole once more.

After that, God disappeared. 

“I don’t understand,” Alex says with a frown as he nears the end and has to tie off the stitches. “Why did He bring you back? Why did He leave?”

Michael sits up and gingerly tests out his wing. He winces, but smiles as it spreads out to its full span. He turns to face Alex and there is so much gratitude and open affection on his normally stoic face that Alex feels his breath catch. 

“I can’t begin to understand why Father does the things He does. If I had to guess, I’d say that what happened that day made Him doubt if humans weren’t worth the trouble they cause after all. He’d lost faith in them as a whole, but Jeep and Audrey and your mother renewed some of that hope. I think He saw the potential of the human race to be something good once again.” Michael leans forward, so close to Alex that Alex can see the flecks of grey in his eyes. His palms sweat in anticipation. It’d be so easy to close the short distance between them. “I believe that Father is still watching over everything from somewhere, testing us to see which side will win before He comes back. Trying to decide if humans deserve His love or not.”

Alex can’t tear his eyes away when Michael’s tongue wets his bottom lip. He swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Who do you think will win?”

Michael smiles, a smooth grin that makes him look younger and carefree despite the spots of blood covering his hands, dried to his wings and matted to his clothes. He leans forward slowly, giving Alex time to pull away if he wants to. Alex scoffs and surges into the kiss without a second thought. 

It’s chaste, just the soft press of their mouths together, lips catching briefly. It’s intoxicating. Michael’s hands cups the side of Alex’s face, thumbs smoothing over the edge of Alex’s mouth as he places a lingering kiss to Alex’s forehead and pulls his body near. Alex melts into the warm arms that hold him close and the soft skin of Michael’s neck where he buries his head. 

“My faith lies with you, Alex. I believe in you above all else,” Michael breathes into his ear. Alex shivers and wraps his arms more tightly around the sturdy expanse of Michael’s chest.

Nobody in all his life has ever believed so strongly in Alex. Nobody has ever thought him capable of doing anything, much less saving humanity.

For the first time since he found out he was the baby in the prophecy, Alex wants to do his best. It’s going to be hard, and he has no idea what exactly he’s supposed to do, but he wants to succeed. He wants to deserve Michael’s faith.

He places an innocent kiss where Michael’s shoulder meets his neck and enjoys the way Michael unconsciously leans into the touch. Alex has never felt safer or more content.

“Then let’s save the world.”


End file.
